


Drabble #2

by iheartpeace8073



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, M/M, One Shot, the boys have a chick-flick moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 00:59:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5144480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iheartpeace8073/pseuds/iheartpeace8073
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas has to spell it out for Dean, and Dean's not listening (until he is).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drabble #2

Another day, another apocalypse.

Dean knows logically that one of these days it really _will_ be the end, which is why after another close save by Cas, he’s a little on edge. Cas had wasted some of his waning grace to heal Dean’s fractured ribs, despite Dean’s protests and insistences that he’d deal.  Cas is just an idiot that way, not getting that there are far more important things he could be using his grace for, like smiting demons or saving the world (again). Which is why Dean is sulking, avoiding Cas with a bottle of beer and leftover pizza in the kitchen. Sam was giving him wide berth, probably because he didn’t want to touch Dean’s anger with a ten-foot pole, always unpredictable and usually explosive. 

Dean chugs his beer, muttering about stupid do-good angels and itching to throw something.  Unfortunately, Cas didn’t seem to get the memo that Dean wanted space, because he walks right into the kitchen and casually grabs a beer like he can’t _feel_ Dean glaring at the back of his head. He pops the lid off and takes a swig, not ignoring Dean, but not engaging with him either. The longer they sit there in silence, the angrier Dean gets.  Cas is just acting like nothing is wrong, like he doesn’t _know_ how Dean feels about Cas using his grace to heal him.  Finally, Dean can’t take the oppressive _thing_ sitting between them, and he snaps.

“Why the hell did you have to do that?”

Cas furrows his brow in confusion and stares Dean down. “You know why, Dean.”

“See, that doesn’t make any sense to me. I actually can’t fathom why you insist on wasting your grace to help me.  I’m not worth one drop of your grace.  You should know better than anyone just how unclean I am, how fucked up I am and how dark I’ve been.  Why even bother? Because you think you owe me? Because you’ve got some grand score to settle—you fuck up, I fuck up, and around and around we go until someone starts fixing shit?  This you fixing it?”

Cas looks like he’d like to interrupt, but Dean is on a roll.

“Or worse—you still think I’m your responsibility? Your charge?  Fuck you, man, I never asked you to stick around and clean up my messes.  They’re just that—mine. You’re the one that always has to pop in, always take responsibility for shit that’s not your fault, and you don’t have to do that, man.  I’m not your fucking _job,_ for God’s sake.”

Dean’s fighting back tears at this point. His voice had risen to a shout, but at the last bit, it breaks because he just can’t anymore. Can’t deal, can’t understand why Cas is still standing there like Dean didn’t just ream into him and throw every punch he could, trying to knock some sense into Cas so he’ll just _see_ how unworthy Dean is and leave now, rather than walking out once Dean’s learned to rely on him—when it’ll hurt more. He’s not sure he can take that.

Cas looks at him, breathing heavily and close to tears, emotionally wrung out, and all he does is breathe tiredly, “Is that all, Dean?”

Dean nods once, not trusting his voice. He tenses up like he’s bracing for the inevitable impact, flinching as Cas shifts across the room. Cas actually sighs as he strides closer to Dean, which is weird, because Dean’s expecting him to walk out the door, not approach Dean like he’s some sort of easily-startled animal. But no, Cas waltzes right up to Dean until they’re barely a foot apart—stupid Cas and his personal space issues.

Cas places a hand on Dean’s arm and looks up slightly to meet Dean’s eyes, even though Dean’s fighting desperately to look away. That steady blue gaze pulls him in though, just like it always has. 

Cas lets them both breathe for a minute before whispering, light as a breeze, “Dean… will you never see your true value? You _must_ know why I will never leave you, why I will always do whatever is in my power to help you.”  He tilts his head like he’s waiting for Dean to get it.  Dean, for his part, can barely breathe, let alone think. Cas’s presence isn’t making his feelings of worthlessness, ugliness, _darkness_ fade like it normally does and Dean feels like a dam about to break.

“You’re gonna have to spell it out, man. I’m not seeing where you’re pulling this crap from.  I’m not…” He can’t continue.

Now it’s Cas’s turn to blink back tears. “Oh, Dean…” he sighs, and he leans forward to gently brush his lips against Dean’s.

Dean only takes a heartbeat to get with the program before pressing his lips back against his angel’s; a finger in the metaphorical dam, an affirmation.  The world tilts into place.  This is what they are. This is why Cas won’t leave, and this is why Dean can’t let him.

Breaking apart, breathing together, Dean gathers his voice and whispers, “Me too, Cas.”  He breathes in deep and dips to kiss Cas lightly on the temple, “Me too.”


End file.
